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“Not here. Wait until we’re back at the command center.”
It took several seconds, but he eventually gave in, at least on seeing my arm. When I told him I was capable of carrying my own bag, he nearly snarled at me.
Like on the plane, when I got in the SUV, I avoided looking at Ehren, who was in the front passenger seat.
“I’ll take the back row,” I said to Rogue when he got out and lifted the seat.
“Not on your life, Schön,” he said, winking. Magnet took the seat beside me, and while it made me uncomfortable, at least Ehren wasn’t seated there.
“I heard you had a lot of success. Congratulations,” said Zeppelin, who was once again our driver. I raised my head and realized he was speaking to me.
“Yes, um, well, the team was successful.”
He smiled and winked. “Say thank you, Schön.”
While my first inclination was to argue and tell him I hadn’t done more than the others—except for Ehren—I knew doing so would only draw more unwanted attention. “Thank you,” I said, turning my head toward the window when I could feel Ehren’s eyes on me.
Thankfully, we traveled mainly on back roads on the drive to Shere, so other than the dim lighting inside the vehicle, there was nothing more to illuminate the shame and embarrassment I knew was evident on my face, put there by Ehren’s judgment of me.
Once alone, when I was certain no one could see or hear me, I’d allow myself to break down, to rail against being in the position I worked so hard to avoid.
What was it about me that made people notice me? Why couldn’t I blend into the background like everyone else? It didn’t matter whether I smiled or frowned, spoke up, or remained quiet; I always seemed to be a target. I was either accused of being angry or too much of a flirt. Any expression on my face at all seemed fodder for criticism.
To my dismay, I let out a groan of frustration. While he didn’t ask what was wrong, Magnet brushed my finger with his. It meant he’d heard and would add it to the list of things he’d want to talk to me about once we arrived at the command center.
After we parked near the entrance of the main residence, I waited a few seconds so Ehren would have time to get her bags and go inside before I got out. When I did, Magnet told me to wait before entering the house.
“Rogue and I have discussed it, and I’ll room in his cottage, and you can have the one where Zeppelin and I stayed previously.”
“It isn’t two bedrooms?”
“It is.”
I appreciated that Magnet thought he was arranging something nice for me. He had no idea that what he was actually doing was further isolating me from the others. “Thanks, but I’d prefer to stay where I have been.”
“Will you excuse us?” Magnet said to Rogue. “I don’t feel like I can say or do anything right,” he added after the other man walked away.
“Magnet, you—or we, rather—shouldn’t be having this conversation.” I glanced at the house. “Especially not right here.”
“Come with me. Please.”
I nodded and followed, not bothering to argue when he carried my bag in the direction of the cottage where I knew he’d stayed with Zeppelin. He unlocked the door, reached inside, and turned on a light, then motioned for me to go in front of him.
“Stop right there,” I said when he carried my bags beyond the living room. “I’m not staying here. You cannot issue an order as to where I sleep. You also cannot demand I show you my arm. Or insist upon carrying my bag just because I’m a woman, or intervene every time another agent has an issue with me. Earlier, you said I never had to fear that you’d see me as anything but an agent on your team?—”
“Those were not my exact words.”
I clenched my fists at my sides and snarled at him like he’d done to me earlier. “This is ridiculous,” I spat.
When I spun on my heel to leave, Magnet did the last thing I ever would’ve predicted he’d do. His arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled my back to his front.
“I need you to listen to what I have to say.” His breath felt warm on my neck, and I wanted to melt into him. Instead, I used all my might to elbow him. Unfortunately, my aim was off, and instead of connecting with his stomach, I hit him in the groin.
“Jesus, why did you do that?” he shouted, dropping his arm and backing away from me.
I had my hand on the knob, about to stalk out, when I heard him say my name. Not my code name. My given name. “Prisca, please.”
I spun around and faced him. “You said you’d never see me as anything but another agent,” I repeated, hating that I sounded as hurt as I felt.
